Warren's self-appointed role in life was securty; minding the safety of those around him and the places he occupied. He'd been working to that end for years, and that's without even mentioning the unscrupulous years of his youth, spent sleeping in beds he shouldn't have and needing to be wary of guards or worse, angry fathers.
Howl hadn't gone two steps from bed before Warren's consciousness returned. The list of bodies that could move around him while he slept without waking him was one name long, to his knowledge, but he reasoned if the miqo'te had a reason to slip away that he should leave him to that. The telltale sound of clothing being rifled through sounded in the night and Warren smiled to himself. He knew what Howl was up to.
A short war was waged in his head. He'd made a determined decision to stop allowing Howl to selflessly sacrifice himself to help carry Warren's burdens and problems, but he also knew that rendering such services satisfied a need and a want in his younger counterpart. The discussion of the ring had come up over dinner, the contents of the letter made mention and the nature of the delivery weighed. Warren wanted to do the task himself; It was his responsibility because he had been trusted with the artifact, but it was also true that he didn't trust his own skills with the delicate work.
Letting the ring fall into disrepair was his own fault. Another mistake due to his own weaknesses. It caused no small wound in him that he allowed harm to come to it, though he considered perhaps it was a fitting physical blemish to mirror the emotional one he'd inflicted. If that was the case, he knew Howl would be the more capable of the two of them to repair it; Howl was a healer, even if he styled himself as a brawling gambler.
At some point, Warren drifted off. He slept soundly and his dreams were of the glorious sunrise.
Howl hadn't gone two steps from bed before Warren's consciousness returned. The list of bodies that could move around him while he slept without waking him was one name long, to his knowledge, but he reasoned if the miqo'te had a reason to slip away that he should leave him to that. The telltale sound of clothing being rifled through sounded in the night and Warren smiled to himself. He knew what Howl was up to.
A short war was waged in his head. He'd made a determined decision to stop allowing Howl to selflessly sacrifice himself to help carry Warren's burdens and problems, but he also knew that rendering such services satisfied a need and a want in his younger counterpart. The discussion of the ring had come up over dinner, the contents of the letter made mention and the nature of the delivery weighed. Warren wanted to do the task himself; It was his responsibility because he had been trusted with the artifact, but it was also true that he didn't trust his own skills with the delicate work.
Letting the ring fall into disrepair was his own fault. Another mistake due to his own weaknesses. It caused no small wound in him that he allowed harm to come to it, though he considered perhaps it was a fitting physical blemish to mirror the emotional one he'd inflicted. If that was the case, he knew Howl would be the more capable of the two of them to repair it; Howl was a healer, even if he styled himself as a brawling gambler.
At some point, Warren drifted off. He slept soundly and his dreams were of the glorious sunrise.
![[Image: yEROfKO.png]](http://i.imgur.com/yEROfKO.png)
